Conversations
by Aerohead
Summary: Fiyero and Elphaba have a conversation during Ama Clutch's funeral. Bookplay amalgamation, oneshot, no real plot, Elphaba's POV


Title: Conversation

Author: Aerohead

Email: in my profile

Website: In my profile

Pairing: Galinda/Fiyero, one-sided Elphaba/Fiyero

Rating: G

Disclaimer/Dedication: For L. Frank Baum, Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz, and Winnie Holtzman who own this idea that I'm extending. Thank you for giving me the first part.

Warning: Absolutely nothing

Genre: General

Summary: Fiyero and Elphaba have a chat during Ama Clutch's funeral

Author's Notes: This is just something that's been annoying me all day, so I've decided to write it. It's first-person, since I wanted to try to write a fanfic in first person for a while now, and I thought a one-shot would be the best place to try a hand at it. Anyway, just something random and different for y'all. Please tell me how you like it, and if you think I should just forget about the whole idea of writing in first person. Also, this is an amalgamation of the book and musical because…Well, I'm not sure exactly why, but when I was thinking about it, it made sense at the time. There is no real plot, just trying to play with characters.

"Really, why couldn't you have worn something a bit more…normal, instead of that shapeless garment?" Galinda hissed as she pushed me to sit down between herself and Fiyero.  
"I always wear this to funerals." I said, sending Fiyero and apologetic look as Galinda fell into me, making me fall into him.

"I didn't think you'd be the type to have dressing attire for funerals, Elphaba." Fiyero said. I frowned at him, but he didn't seem to notice.

Galinda seemed intent on keeping up the topic of my clothing – something I really wished she'd let drop – when Misses MillaPfanneandShenshen (never ones to be separated even when saying their names) came in to the chapel wearing what was apparently height of fashion. I may just be an uncivilized Munchkin girl, but to me, it looked like someone had stuffed them into pieces of scrap black clothe and wrapped black lace around it at the last minute.

They gaggled over to Galinda and she stood up to receive their fake tears and twitters of remorse over the loss of Ama Clutch. I stared in bewilderment as Galinda took their annoyance with the good humor she found in clothing.

"Excuse me." I muttered, getting up and moving to Fiyero's other side.

"Oh, thank you, Elphie…ba…Elphaba." Galinda said, catching herself. Apparently, she was not allowed to be friends with me when the shallow triumvirate of Shiz University was within hearing distance. Galinda turned and smiled prettily at Misses MillaPfanneandShenshen. "See? She isn't all that bad; she just made room for us so we can sit together!"

"That's so…nice." Milla said, though one would think, by the look on her face, complimenting me was like swallowing a live slug.

Pfannee and Shen Shen simply ignored Galinda's comment by fawning over the expense put into the funeral, and Galinda was gone, ignoring the rest of her guests and the fact that she was at a funeral and should keep her voice at a respectable level and not the hysterical screech she was currently talking in.

I rubbed my forehead and sighed. My chest tightened suddenly as I saw the casket, and I shook my head. A headache was starting, though I couldn't exactly place why. I jolted up when I realized why, and my vision swam momentarily.

"I have to go…" I said, getting up and excusing myself to the woman sitting between me and the small space between the pews and the wall. I had to grip the wall while I was leaving, though my vision had at least restored itself.

I distantly heard Nessarose call my name as I passed her in the back of the chapel, but I didn't answer her – I couldn't even look at her. Instead I pushed the doors to the chapel and ran.

I tried to run as fast as I could, but I tripped over the heel Galinda had insisted that I wear, and fell to the ground. I stared at my hand laying it the grass for a moment, before pulling it away and hugging myself.

"Elphaba, are you all right? You ran out of there really fast and…are you crying?" I turned to look at Fiyero, and tried to compose myself.

"No, of…of course I'm not." I said. He leaned down and sat next to me, putting a hand on my cheek.

"Then why's your cheek wet?" he asked, pulling his hand away. I wish he hadn't; it had felt nice to feel someone touch me so gently.

Stop it, Elphaba. I couldn't be thinking like this. Fiyero was Galinda's boyfriend, not mine. "Because I fell, and there's dew on the ground." I said, starting to stand. Fiyero grabbed my arm and shook his head.

"They won't miss us. Galinda's doing dirges in there, badly, and I'd rather not subject myself to that again."

I tried to imagine little blonde Galinda singing funeral hymns, but the idea was too comical to even comprehend.

"So, why'd you run out of there?" Fiyero asked, not unkindly.

"I didn't…" at his look, I sighed. "The casket, it made me think of my mother's funeral." I said, finally giving up.

He looked at me curiously. "You can remember your mother's burial? But weren't you…?"

"Nearly two?" I asked, and he nodded. "Yes, but you can't forget when one's own father doesn't want you at your mother's funeral because you're an atrocity." I said, laughing ruefully.

"You're not an atrocity." Fiyero said. I looked up at him, surprised, and he smiled. "I think you're pretty, and so does Galinda." I had wanted to swoon, I really did, but the end of his comment ruined the moment. I settled for just staring at him in utter shock. He pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and sat back, perfectly at ease in his mourning wear. "You know, my father's not that fond of me, either." He said.

"Really?" I said, not knowing why. Fiyero nodded.

"Once I'm king, I have to be married to a Winkie like myself, and he learned that I was dating Galinda. Now he wants to actually take me out Shiz even though it's the first school I've stayed at longer than a week or two." He shrugged.

"Why do you have to marry a Winkie?" I asked. Fiyero shrugged.

"Protocol, I guess. I'm supposed to marry this girl named Sarima who I've never met, and," his eyes glazed over and he looked out into the sky over my shoulder, "and, I guess I actually love someone else, but my father would never hear of it. I'd have to die or become….become…that scarecrow over there," he gestured to the scarecrow in the field behind us, "if I ever wanted to be with someone else."

I stared at him for a moment, before standing. "They'll be worried about us." I said when he looked up at me quizzically. It only hurt a little to know that the one he loved but could never have wasn't me, but I decided to find solace in the fact that I wasn't the only one with an ashamed father.

He stood and took my elbow. "Well, I came out here to escort the poor young lady back inside, so that's what I'm going to do." He said teasingly.

I smiled at him, ignoring the fact that my heart beat sped up at his touch. "You know, funerals are always the best places for thought-provoking conversations and chivalry." I said as he led me back into the chapel.


End file.
